


wanderlove

by demonicxiconic



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Bonding Through Murder, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Disregard for Other’s Lives, Ficlet, Gen, chapter 1: in which i do not know or care about the canon for what tims eyes can or cannot do, how the FUcK do i tag this, is that a tag? it should be a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicxiconic/pseuds/demonicxiconic
Summary: this is gonna be the place where i put my mechs things that are too short to be their own thing! tags and ratings are subject to change :)(edit: changed the title to be Even More Pretentious, used to be “happily, i’m unfazed here, too”)
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	wanderlove

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing for this fandom! if i wrote someone out of character then uh. sorry.  
> i’m @demonicxiconic on tumblr if you want to come Vibe™️ with me :)

Tim focused in again, just to make sure, flicking the little wheel at the edge of his sclera around to first the infrared, then the heat sensor, and finally the targeting, before spinning it through the other settings and back to normal with a sigh.

Stowaways.  Again.

He’d been fiddling with his right eye as he got ready for breakfast, as it had been giving him a bit of trouble when we was trying to go to sleep the previous night, when he noticed two heat signatures that were definitely not his crew mates. It was Ashes and the Toy Soldier’s turn to make breakfast, Jonny and Marius were sleeping in, Nastya was doing her usual check-ins on the Aurora, Brian and Ivy were feeding the octokittens, and Raphaella was reading in her bunk. None of them were in the main storage unit.

And yet, without fail, there were two huddled, red silhouettes there every time he flipped the settings around.

He finished buttoning his shirt and quickly made his way to the captain’s quarters, which Jonny had taken over after Carmilla’s “unfortunate” death. Everyone knew he technically didn’t deserve them by virtue of his rank, but nobody really wanted to bunk with him, so that was that.

He knocked once on the door before opening it, calling out into the dark room.

“Jonny!”

He was still asleep, a journal laying open next to him. There was a bit of ink smeared on his cheek, and Tim could see the same smudge on the open page, as though he’d dropped it on his face in the middle of writing. He stepped forward, flicking him on the forehead.

“Jonny, get  _up_. We have a situation.”

He made a disgruntled noise, rubbing at the place where he had been hit and turning over, but he still didn’t open his eyes. Tim snorted, shaking the hammock a bit.

“C’mon, get your arse out of bed. I know you like to deal with the stowaways before anyone else gets to them.”

At this, there was a flurry of movement, and First Mate D’ville promptly rolled out of his hammock, shooting to his feet just as quickly with an uncannily wide smile.

“Morning, Tim! Did I hear something about stowaways?”

Tim laughed despite himself, nodding along. There was something so infectious about the madness Jonny carried about him, something that made you want to stick with him.

“Yeah, I was fiddling with my eye earlier and I picked up a couple unaccounted for heat signatures, so-“ He shrugged.

“Thought I’d tell you, since you like.. hunting them, or whatever.”

Jonny nodded once before turning on his heel and meandering over to his desk, brushing some crumpled papers out of the way and picking up the ancient microphone he had managed to wire into the Aurora’s system, flicking it on. He tapped it, and Tim winced at the way the sound echoed sharply around the ship, though Jonny didn’t seem to notice.

“Hello everyone, this is your lovely captain speaking. I’m afraid that breakfast will have to be delayed a bit today, as there seem to be a few stowaways onboard. So, you all know what that means!”

He grinned theatrically to the non-existent audience before continuing.

“Stowaways, whoever and wherever you may be, you have five minutes before you are hunted for sport! Everyone else, meet up in the kitchen before the games begin. Good luck..”

Tim watched with faint amusement as he strutted back around to the desk, flipping off the microphone and setting it down with a thud.

“Right!”

He turned around, clapping his hands gleefully.

“To the kitchen!”

Tim opened the door again, bowing exaggeratedly while simultaneously glaring up at Jonny, who strode through the doorway and into the halls like he was king of the world.

And he sort of was, if you counted that the Aurora was their world, and though he was a sorry excuse for a leader and a sorrier one for a crewmate, Tim couldn’t think of anyone better to be their self-proclaimed captain.

(He could, actually, but he was having a rare moment of true fondness towards Jonny, so he elected not to.)

“So, which way did you say they were?”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t use your laser sights or whatever and not share, that’s cheating!”

“Alright, well then I won’t use them. It’s no fun when you already know generally where they are, anyways.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Rude.”

“Cheater.”

“Whiny.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Cannibal.”

“TECHNICALLY it isn’t cannibalism, we’re not human anymore, just human-adjacent-“

“Oh my god, shut up.”


End file.
